


You make me see clearly now

by ruthy4vrsmoaked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, HEA, Romance, Sad Draco Malfoy, She doesn't accept a no, Smut, Unsolicited Opinion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18658114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthy4vrsmoaked/pseuds/ruthy4vrsmoaked
Summary: You make me see clearly now... the rain is gone.She never asks permission to seat at his table. She just sits, drinks her tea and eats her cake. He has no other choice than to endure her unsolicited opinion on his life. The start of something none of the two expected.





	You make me see clearly now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [savedprincess85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/savedprincess85/gifts).



> To Savedprincess85, I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved to write it.  
> Pure fluff, with lemons and the imperative HEA.
> 
> beta'ed by my partner-in-crime Magzillasaurus, what would I do without you?

 

_For Crystal ( Savedprincess85) with love…_

 

She entered the coffee shop, stamping her feet to release most of the rain off her shoes. The queue was four people long. Hermione huffed, annoyed not only with the weather outside, but also the fact that the person in the front would take ages to make her selection, and her hunch about the lack of an empty table for her to sit down at while waiting for a dryer moment outside, in the company of the newest novel she bought moments ago.

 

She shifted from one foot to the other, stretching her neck to hear how the woman ordered a large pumpkin spice latte, with black coffee instead of espresso, six pumps of caramel, five pumps of vanilla, four pumps of cinnamon dolce and one pump of amaretto, plus three packs of stevia. It made her honestly wonder if such a concoction was even drinkable.

 

Her humour didn’t improve when the next in line couldn’t decide between a slice of carrot cake or banana bread. The eye-roll and pursed lips weren’t avoided. Luckily, the other line opened and in a second, her queue melted from two to none.

 

Finally, she was served. Though, with a small shopping bag in her hand and a tray containing a piece of marble cake and her long-desired large rosehip tea and floating orange slice, the next problem arose: _where to sit?_

 

Her eyes roamed over the entire room but found no free place. She blew a string of curls away from her face, huffing and irritated about how the gods were all against her, by the looks of it. Her gaze fell on a lonely figure sitting by the window. A blond, it seemed, the long male fingers raking through the tresses, while the other hand fumbled with a tiny box between the digits.

 

Yet, Hermione recognised the hair colour on the spot, as soon as the raking hand left its place. Platinum blond hair, _how were her odds?_ Her assessment was confirmed, when said figure looked around stretching away the kink on his neck.

 

Draco Malfoy.

 

The acquitted Slytherin, one she helped to keep out of Azkaban’s tentacles by testifying on his behalf. In the end, it was he who threw Harry the wand that put an end to Voldemort’s wrath. He who unmistakably recognised them at the Manor but refrained from ratting them out to the devil.

 

And now, it would be he the one who would have to share his two-person table with her, at least as long as her tea lasted, and the rain poured outside. Hermione didn't ask for permission. She merely walked towards the empty chair, set her tray on the table, nearly dumped her bag from Flourish and Blotts on the ground, and sat down.

 

“Please, Granger. Do take a seat and ruin my day that’s already shitty as fuck.” Draco followed the whole commotion, dumb-founded by her audacity.

 

“Hi, Malfoy, nice to see you here. Listen, there’s no empty table, and in case you’ve missed it, it’s raining cats and dogs outside; so if my presence here annoys you, well…poor you.” Finally, she was able to set her lips around her teacup and slip the hot red liquid with a hum. “You won’t notice me, I’ll sit here quietly, sip my tea, eat my cake and read my book. It will be as if I’m not here at all.” She waved her hand, dismissing his glare in one gesture.

 

“Do I have a say in all this?” Her guts to disturb his personal space irritated him even more than what the box was doing to his mood. As if its content wasn’t enough to tear him down, the content _and_ its meaning, he thought, the last probably worse than the first.

 

“You do, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not moving away.” Hermione spoke while she cut a piece of her brown and yellow cake with a fork, closing her lips around the plastic cutlery and pulling it away, including the content sight. His grey eyes followed each move.

 

She kept her promise, though, picking her book and moving the bookmark away to start reading the first page while stabbing into a new piece of cake absently or sipping her drink after blowing the smoke away. Paying no attention to the glooming wizard on the opposite side.

 

From his side, he drank the rest of his black coffee while studying her face. Her youthful features held now a sprinkle of maturity, the brown in her eyes unable to hide the traces of the history they've seen. But despite all of it, he had to admit she was quite a sight for sore eyes.  A woman that didn't need tons of smuk to make herself presentable, unlike the witch that had returned his ring this morning; a witch that never left her house unless her face was painted entirely from corner to corner including extra glamours for just in case, he thought cynically.

 

Her hand shot out and blocked him from moving another finger, “What’s with the box?”

 

“Why do you care?” He pulled back. The last thing he could use at this moment was a Gryffindor lecture given by the swot herself.

 

“You can’t stop fiddling it, and it’s working on my nerves, you know?” Unwilling, his fingers restarted their fidgeting as soon as the pressure reduced.

 

She grabbed his hand again, this time, blocking it with more strength against the table. In the end, Hermione took the box out of his hands, opened it and gawked, "Wha...look at the size of the emerald stone. Wow, you really want to express successful love. Do you doubt how to propose? Your lucky witch can't refuse such an expensive gift."

 

“You can have it, it has been rejected anyway. I have no use for it.” The acid tone had her blinking.

 

“I don’t understand, who rejected it?” Suddenly, her interest in the book vanished, and she closed the book cover with a plop, shoving the tome to the side. “You’re Draco Malfoy, the most eligible bachelor in the entire British Wizarding Community!”

 

He scoffed, “I never expected to hear you praise my personhood, Granger.” His hand palm brushed over his face, nipping the chin at the end.

 

“Alright, we’re not each other's best friends, not even acquaintances who want an update on one another's lives, but you gotta forgive me for being a little curious. Who’s the witch who had the guts to reject the title of Mrs. Malfoy?” It crossed her mind that it was none of her business, but she dismissed the thought quickly. Yet, her curiosity was stronger than her righteous feeling.

 

“I need another coffee for this talk.” He left her table, using large strides to reach the counter and renew his drink. A minute or so later, Draco sank in his chair eyeing how the brunette touched the gemstone with a reverence that he had expected to see on another witch’s face.

 

“I’m listening, though I don’t want this ring.” Hermione shook the box softly to focus his attention on the little case.

 

“Aren’t you laughing your arse off, hearing how the mighty Malfoy has fallen off his ivory tower?” He grimaced, his tongue burning from a first sip.

 

“Let me check.” A pointer ticked against her lips, eyes looking up to the ceiling, “No.” It was a short denial. Following his example, she drank and asked, after setting her cup down, “But I am curious...”

 

"Allow me to feed your curiosity and give you a reason to laugh at my expense. Miss Astoria Greengrass rejected my proposal because her mighty arse doesn't want to be linked to the fallen king whose name is nothing worth within our Wizarding society, nowadays." He still seethed even though the episode was a few hours old. Draco kept the box in his pocket, like a piece of concrete, to remember him that even after three years, and many efforts to redeem himself - including the necessary financial donations - people still considered him the filth of the pureblood Sacred Twenty-Eight.

 

Hermione watched him dumb-faced, “She what?”

 

"I thought you to be the smartest of our generation. Do you need me to use the little words?" He reacted with a sarcastic tone while using her fork to pull the plate towards him and fishing a piece of her abandoned cake.

 

Surprisingly enough, she shoved the entire plate to him, as if she was used to wizards stealing her food, “Do you love her?”

 

“No. I was simply complying with the marriage contract my parents sealed with the Greengrass family. What I overlooked was a small clause that freed the other side, in case one of the parties disgraced the family name. My father added it as an insurance issue, in case my bride would be compromised, but in the end, it was used against me. My involvement in the war was enough, it seems.” Mindlessly, the cake was devoured in no time.

 

"What kind of bullshite is that? You were pardoned for your participation! I spoke on your behalf because I believed - and still believe - that you did nothing of your own accord." Hermione had raised her cup first, but sat it down with a clash, a drop of hot tea spilling on the table from the sudden movement while hissing through her teeth.

 

Something in her passionate voice warmed his blackened heart, though he was still baffled.

 

In the meantime, she used her napkin to dry the table, “You’re an even bigger dumbhead, for allowing such a crap of old-fashioned pile of dragon dung dictate your life. You’re twenty-two now, right? Why do you allow your father to command the course of your life?”

 

“You don’t understand it, with your muggleborn-upbringing, please don’t feel offended, I’m simply pointing out a fact here.” He rose a palm in a peace gesture.

 

"I don't feel called out, I'm a mudblood, and I'm proud of it.' The word which used to hurt her empowered her now more than ever.

 

“Don’t use that word in my presence again, witch, I regret using it in the past.” His eyes stared at her with a hard gaze. “A sorry doesn't even cover the full damage.”

 

“Malfoy, don’t stray from the main issue here. How come that you allow your father to tell you what to do?” His hard stare was met with an accusing gaze.

 

“What do you expect me to do? To raise my wand and throw a tantrum?” He shrugged, lost and tired from his life; swigging half of his coffee down.

 

“To tell your father to stick that damn contract where the sun never shines, damn it. I can’t believe, how after all you’ve been through, you still try to be the good son.” Her eyebrows formed a line. “You deserve to find your own life partner, not to meekly accept the one your father chose in your place.” Enraged, she crossed her arms at chest height, letting out a deep breath.

 

“As if women are standing in line, screaming ‘I love you, Draco!’ and waving their arms to stand out.” He shook his head, the bitterness from his reality mixing with incredulity at her fire on his behalf.

 

She looked at him sceptically, “Now, that sounds like a typical male fantasy.” The sarcasm soon replaced by an annoyed frown.

 

Hermione motioned to sip but found her cup empty and sighed. However, his hand shot out and took it away, “What was in it?”

 

“Rosebud tea with a slice of orange.” Her words were barely cold, or he went once more to the counter returning shortly with a new cup and a plate with a slice of chocolate cake. The platter was placed in the middle of the table with two forks, while her mug was arranged between her hands. Draco pointed his fork at her own, inviting her to taste the new piece.

 

By now, the rain had ended, and half of the tea parlour was empty, though Hermione had lost track of time, "What happens now, Malfoy?"

 

"You eat half of this, I eat the rest." The top with most of the brown frosting was stolen under her gaze, but he needed a sugar punch.

 

She didn’t miss the little detail but refrained from comment. “Funny Malfoy… you know what I meant.” Her spoon drew circles in her hot drink, while she fixed his gaze with a stern glare.

 

"Tell me instead, how come your ring finger is still bare? I expected to see you pregnant with the weaselbee's spawn." He was avoiding the question, undoubtedly. The truth was he didn't know how to move on. His father seethed at the big affront, his mother's biggest concern was how to cancel all the arrangements, none of them halting their thoughts to consider his feelings. Draco himself didn't really mourn the loss, rather the fact of being stood up was a first in his life, and it felt bitter.

 

"Har har, funny joke, snake… Well, no, Ron and I didn't work in the end but speak another insult about him, and the contents of this cup will land on your face, notwithstanding you being the one who paid for the drink." She drew a line on the spot. "Don't be a coward and tell me what's your plan of action?"

 

“I don’t have one.”

 

“Wait a minute, are you waiting for your father to come up with a replacement?” Her eyes sparked with a familiar fire, yet one he never saw it directed at his person.

 

“What do you suggest? That I publish an advert in the Prophet, asking if there’s a woman who wants to be my wife?” He tilted his head for a second, sipping his coffee next.

 

“Are you that desperate? Is there no woman that makes your heart tingle?”

 

"For a second I thought you were going to say ‘makes my cock tingle'."

 

That earned him a pat on his head, “Don’t be crass, it doesn’t suit you.”

 

He pursed his lips, issuing a warning not to hit him again. “To answer your question, no. No witch has tingled my heart, because I haven’t been looking for one. Are you interested in the vacancy?”

 

“Man, you’re so funny right now!” She faked a laugh. “I’m allergic to ferrets.”

 

“The ferret has eaten half of your first portion of cake and is in the process of devouring his half of the second slice, while you ate the rest. I say your allergy has cured itself.” To prove his point, he stabbed a chunk with his fork and shoved it inside her mouth while she opened her lips to fire off the next answer, “See?” He chuckled as she growled.

The sound of Draco’s laugh startled her, for an instant. Hermione never heard him chuckle before, and she joined him as soon as she recovered from her surprise.

 

A quick glance at the old fashioned clock hanging on the wall broke her fun, “I have to go, Malfoy. Thank you for the nice time, and the nice chat. Only a piece of advice, stop thinking you’re not worth it. You’ve made mistakes in your past, but find me someone without dirt on his head, I dare you. Your core isn’t evil, just a little mean.” Hermione drank the last of her tea, gathered her purse, shoved the ring box back to him and put her book inside the shopping bag before standing up. On an impulse, she pecked him on the cheek, “My ferret allergy… I guess you’re right, it’s gone. Though, I’m still allergic to gits.”

 

She turned to leave but was held up by a pale wrist, “Can I take you out on a dinner? I also enjoyed our little thing here...”

 

“Hmm, I don’t know…” She scrunched her face.

 

"Please, Granger? Let me apologise to you, decently…are you free tomorrow night?" Again, a new first in their history, Draco looking hopefully in her direction.

 

Seconds flew by, where she wondered if it was the right thing to do. Eventually, she nodded, “Where do I meet you?”

 

“Can I pick you up instead?” His thumb was rubbing softly over the top of her hand. The mindless gesture was sending sparks to her spine, a feeling to be analysed as soon as she was inside the safety of her home.

 

“I’ll open the floo to you, it’s the Granger House.” She pulled her fingers slightly away, confused as to how he initially didn’t let go of his hold.

 

“Expect me tomorrow night at seven sharp, Granger.”

 

Nodding, she quickly exited the parlour, drowning in all sorts of questions which invaded her mind. _Why did she react so heatedly to his touch? What did the heat of his hand do to her spirit? What kind of odd look did he give her in farewell?_

 

None of those questions had a prompt answer. Not within the hour, nor after a nights sleep.

 

-oOo-

 

Her father’s old clock had just finished sounding the seventh hour, when her Floo came to life, shortly followed by a wizard dressed to the nines and patting off the soot from his jacket.

 

He gave her a once-over upon arrival, openly admiring the navy dress she wore, the fabric blousing at her middle and embracing her curves from the waist down. Her cleavage was peeping through the round neck, just enough to give his mind the room for a new fantasy. "Good evening, Miss Granger."

 

“Mr. Malfoy, welcome to my humble home.” She bowed lightly at the knees, with a smile, curving the hand as the decorum demanded.

 

It gained her a mocking curve of lips in return, “You forgot to offer the hand for a kiss, milady.”

 

Keeping herself in character, Hermione touched her chest, “Good gracious, how rude of me. Mr. Malfoy, if you please?” Offering her hand as told.

 

He took it gently, but the kiss he pressed on the top carried a more profound message she decided not to read into because the answer was more than she could handle. Her mind kept having a hard time wrapping around this new version of Malfoy compared to the one he used to be in her head.

 

Instead of releasing her fingers, Draco closed them around his elbow, “Are you ready to go?”

 

“Just my handbag…”

 

Taking the initiative, he accio’ed the missing item, apparating them quickly after, to a little restaurant looking over Christchurch harbour, The Jetty.

 

"I don't agree with much of my father's beliefs anymore, but I have to admit that the man knows where to eat. I hope you like fish?" The apparition point was at walking distance from the restaurant, and he guided her through the wooden path on the shore towards the entrance. The sunset in the distance and the sound of babbling water were perfect little bits for a stroll with a romantic touch.

 

She was hardly able to take it all in, inhaling the saline in the air, “I do, actually.”

 

He kept surprising her, by the way the butler welcomed him as a familiar customer, “Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to welcome you to The Jetty, once again. May I take your coat, sir? Madam’s also, please?”

 

“Richard, it’s nice to see you.” Draco acknowledged the man with a slight tilt of his head.

 

“We’ve prepared your favourite table, as requested, Mr. Malfoy, please follow me.”

 

Two waiters pulled the chairs, Draco waited politely for her to take her place before sitting down; their napkins were set on laps while a glass of water was served, and the menus were offered. Draco was used to the course of events, but Hermione was a little overwhelmed by all the attention. In the end, she didn’t dine in refined places like this every day.

 

He smiled behind his menu, noticing her gaze shift from one to the other side. Apparently a choice wasn’t evident for her, “If I may suggest, their oysters poached in a champagne sauce are magnificent, and one of my favourites is the Turbot Cutlet with wild mushrooms.”

 

The relief was marked in her face, “I’m following your advice, all of these sound so delicious that I would love to try them all…”

 

Her natural reaction made him chuckle, noticing how she didn’t settle for the most expensive on the menu, totally the opposite of Astoria - the pureblood witch would look at the prices instead of what the dishes were made of. “You know what, I’ll go for the cold _fruits de mer_ plate as a starter followed by the Crab and Lobster risotto, and I’ll let you can taste it.”

 

“Aren’t you afraid of my muggleborn germs?” She teased him, sipping her water. It was suddenly so hot, the more he inched towards her, the more nervous she became.

 

“I assume it’s too late to complain, remember your cake yesterday?” The blond eyebrow rose under his fringe. He placed their order, asking for accompanying wines while exchanging glances as if she agreed with his choice of drinks.

 

A little appetiser was served with their flute of champagne, kicking off an evening unlike no other.

 

He asked what she did nowadays, answering his own question in return.

 

“I can’t believe you tell me you’re surprised that I’m not aiming to become the next Minister of Magic, while you’re the one who’s providing St. Mungo’s vital potions behind the screens!” Her revolt of his settling for the quiet job in the shadows threw him way back to times he saw her rebut the two dunderheads during their time at Hogwarts.

 

"I've told you already that the Malfoy name holds no regard anymore. I'm fine with how things evolved. We made mistakes and we're paying dearly for them, it's not that we are wrongly mistreated."

 

“Then you are a coward, don’t expect an apology for my honesty.” The appetisers had been cleaned and replaced by their starters.

 

“The last thing I expect is you to fight on my account.” He cracked open a langoustine leg and offered her a taste of the firm flesh, using the moment she opened her mouth to shove it between her lips.

 

“You... _om nom nom_ ...can try to shut me up with food... _om nom nom_ ...but I’m still saying my piece, you know? _Om nom nom,_ damn this tastes divine.. _._ ” Every time she wanted to counter, he fed her a new piece. In the end, she seethed, inching closer to him, “Stop it, Malfoy!”

 

“I want to make sure you’ve tasted every bite.” A smile tugged at his lips. This witch turned out to be funnier than he first thought, and he didn’t mind her fire directed at him - he was becoming addicted to it if he was honest.

 

With her fork, she fished an oyster from its shell, dipped it in the white champagne sauce and fed it to him in return, quickly repeating the actions for herself, “I have to admit you’re right, this is delicious.”

 

 _Could grey eyes spark fire?_ Her heart did saltos inside her chest, the evening was turning into something very unexpected. “You know what they say about oysters, right? They are quite aphrodisiacal.”

 

"I don't need aphrodisiacs, witch. I perform just fine without aids." He was confident that to other guests, they looked like a pair in love, instead of two people testing the waters. At least, from his side. He was curious about her, hung at her lips each time she spoke and discovered a kindred soul the more the evening developed.

 

They had a whole lot in common, laughed quite a lot also, telling each other episodes from their time at Hogwarts long before the war loomed over their heads. Unknowingly to her, she was leaving trails of fire on his arms every time Hermione touched him to emphasise something she said, or when she laughed freely at one of his statements. Draco didn't know when she started to interact with him as if he was a longtime friend, but hell if he wasn't enjoying every second.

 

He found no ounce of fake in Hermione, she was one and all genuine; invading his mind and heart at a rate he didn’t think possible. There were moments he lost track of her words because he was mesmerised by her expressions.

 

"I'm too full, Draco. There's no room for dessert inside my belly!" Hermione patted her tummy underlining her statement. She had eaten her plates clean, tasting his in between, just like he did. The wine had flown freely, and her face had a light shade of red in her cheeks, but she was far from tipsy. For that, her answers were too precise.

 

"I'm going to order my favourite, and we'll share it." He pushed for a luscious dessert, to satisfy his sweet tooth and to feed her the perfect ending to a delicious meal.

 

A dark chocolate fondant powdered with icing sugar and a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream was placed between them.

 

“Oh, Draco!” It sounded tormented. “I have no room for this.”

 

“Oh, shut up for once, bookworm.” He scooped from the moulting chocolate core and the ice cream and pushed it into a waiting mouth which opened without a previous request.

 

"Hmm…" She closed her eyes in delight, lifting her chin up. "This is...hmm… oh god...so divine."

 

A trail of chocolate escaped her lips, and his control snapped. Scooping her cheek with a hand to bring her face closer, he licked the brown spot and covered her mouth kissing her with a fervour that surprised both. His tongue demanded entrance, tasting the leftovers of chocolate before dancing with her tongue at an ancient pulse.

 

Hermione lifted a hand to ghost over his chest, placing it in the end, against his throat and using the thumb to caress the soft shaven skin just below the jaw. His surprise attack blurred her thoughts but at no point did she feel the need to put an end to their embrace.

 

On the contrary, she inched closer to the edge of her seat to increase the contact wherever their skin touched. Before she knew it, her throat let a moan escape, delighted how his lips devoured hers without slobbering.

 

This was a man that had mastered the perfect kissing technique. No sloppy or overly wet, but precise. Robbing her of her senses. Making her beg for more.

 

His other hand caught her free palm and lace the fingers together, before bringing it between their bodies.

 

Draco let go of her mouth, dragging her bottom lip between his teeth before releasing, and rested his forehead against hers, while trying to control his quick intakes of breath. He was the first to open his eyes, feeling a male pride rise in his heart watching how her own brown fluttered open with a dreamy gaze.

 

“I’m not apologising.” He rasped.

 

“I’m not asking you to.” She had to clear her throat first.

 

The scoop of vanilla ice cream had become a white sauce around the brown tower, in the meantime. Grabbing the spoon with shaky hands, Draco fed her another piece in slow motion, not once taking his eyes off of her mouth while it closed around the cutlery.

 

In the end, he ate none of the dessert, feeding her the entire portion, until only crumbs were left. Losing no more time than necessary, he informed the butler to send the check as usual, before rushing her out of the restaurant and apparating them into his penthouse barely seconds after he exited through the door.

 

“This is your only moment to tell me to stop.” He uttered the words against her neck, while he placed featherlight kisses on her collarbone, “I’m not giving you a second chance to escape me.”

 

Instead of answering, Hermione shoved the jacket off his shoulders, fumbling with the buttons on his Oxford next. For a second, her mind wondered if this was wise, but her heart overturned the thought into seizing the moment and dealing with the consequences later.

 

His platinum cufflinks blocked her intention of taking his shirt completely off, but he circled his arms around her and unhooked the offending accessories from their place, dropping them on the floor and shaking his limbs to facilitate the fabrics’ fall. Soon, his fingers were searching for a zipper, caressing the bare skin at the same pace as her dress opened and slid along her arms. The bra was unhooked faster than lightning and discarded absently, while the other arm pushed her chest against his frame to close the distance between their bodies.

 

He devoured her mouth, consuming her moans and whispers carrying his name on her breath. Fingers sought and found the outer curves of her bosom, trying an opening to flick over her taut nipple.

 

Her breath stoked at first knead. "Draco…"

 

Hoisting her by her globes, he carried Hermione to the bedroom, sinking onto the mattress with her and demanding his place between her legs. Draco took a moment to admire the half-undressed beauty under his body. Neatly manicured thumbs tweaked the perky nubs before the entire hand cupped her breast and kneaded the soft flesh at will.

 

He kept her gaze on him, lowering his head enough to take a tip into his mouth to suck it deep in his hot cavern. He lapped her as if she was a precious dessert to be savoured at a slow pace, empowered by her mewling and grazing through his hair. Not a man to neglect his surroundings, he made sure the abandoned mound received enough attention from a hand while his lips sucked and pulled at the other nipple.

 

Hermione became restless, eager for more than just some breast worshipping. Her hands sought his waist, found the belt, and opened it with some effort before flipping the buttons free from their restraints, and reaching under his underwear to find a rock hard member. A finger flicked over the engorged head and drew a growl from his throat.

 

“Careful or you’ll have to have patience before I can go again.” He warned her seconds before demanding her lips once more.

 

“Such a lack of control, I expected more from a snake.” She teased him with words before biting his lobe.

 

“This snake is enjoying a nice lioness under his body, witch. I don’t come across natural beauty so often.” Lifting his body enough, he made quick work of her dress that pooled around her waist, and the rest of his pants and underwear, towing his socks as last before he claimed his place again.

 

He rubbed his hardness between her fingers to show her which pace he desired, returning his attention quickly back to her tits. She was soft under his skin, her plump breasts filled his hand just the way he enjoyed the most, and the colour of her nipples was the perfect shade of pink.

 

Draco slid down placing a trail of kisses down her belly until he finally reached a small patch of trimmed hair. His long finger traced the slit first before it drew circles around the hooded nub. “Look at me, Hermione.”

 

Her clouded gaze met his and watched how it turned into liquid mercury while his digit entered her warm sheath. “So warm and soft. This is where I want to sink my cock into. It will feel like the perfect glove of heat around my prick.”

 

“Too much talking, not enough action.” It came out cracking, but it did withdraw a spark in his grey eyes.

 

“I want to make sure you’re ready for me,” he dipped two fingers between her walls, scissoring them to force a moan from her lips. Hermione jerked her hips, heady. “Just like that, my little lioness. I want that passion unleashed, I’m certain you’ll meet me at every thrust, taking my cock as deep as you can before you’re drowning in the orgasm I’ll force from your pussy with my fingers and pounding.”

 

“Oh shit…” She arched her back. “Please, Malfoy...Draco!”

 

He consumed his name from her lips, thrusting his hard-on into her quim in one precise move. The groan that escaped his mouth was a guttural one, while a thought invaded his mind. _She’s my safe haven._

 

He decided to make love to her the next time. This time, he wanted to mark her as his own, the woman that passionately told him to be ambitious in life, to stop doubting his heart and fight for his rightful place in the world. Who told him with so many words that he was worth it, that it was okay to make a mistake but not to dwell on the guilt for so long.

 

Draco launched a relentless pace, reaching deeper with a new thrust than the previous one while flicking a thumb over her clit to drag her with him down the precipice. Repeating time after time, “I’m not letting you go, witch.”

 

Hermione had no other choice than to hook her legs around his waist to follow his maddening rhythm, the arms wrapping around his shoulders as if they belonged there all along. She bit his shoulder, moaned against his pale skin, raked the fingers through his soft blond tresses and turned his face to possess his mouth in searing kisses, mixed with choked breaths and loud cries.

 

It didn’t take long before she started to clench around his cock, arms and legs clutching around his frame as the flames of an all-consuming orgasm overtook her senses. He rode her waves of desire until he couldn’t hold on anymore and exploded inside her core, jets of cum erupting from his cock while his sight went dark for a few moments.

 

For a few moments, Draco had no strength left to shift his bodyweight way from her. He panted heavily against her collarbone, pressing a light kiss wherever his lips could reach, hands stroking her side softly. Hermione caressed his spine covered in a fine layer of sweat, first with her legs still around his waist, but soon they caved in and slid to the sides, exhausted.

 

Raising by his arms he lifted his head to kiss her, not the passionate heat of moments before, but the sweet, sensual touch carrying the last sparks of pleasure. He indulged in her fulfilled expression, rosy cheeks, dreamy stare and swollen lips, but foremostly in her soft smile curving around her mouth. “You look like a kitten that got to the cream.”

 

“Well, I found a Slytherin snake that knows his way around a girls body.” Hermione chuckled huskily.

 

“Not a girls body. A breathtaking, delicious and gorgeous woman including the freckles and this curly mess on her head.” He finally moved to the side but snaked an arm around her frame to curl her body against his.

 

“I didn’t take you for a cuddler.” Her head rested against his chest, the powerful heartbeat right underneath her ear.

 

“I’m not one, usually. But I normally don’t have such a generous woman under me, who makes me blackout. I’m still recovering, don’t you hear my heart trying to break out of my chest, woman?” He stroked her side with long rubs. “Granger?”

 

She snipped, “Yes, Malfoy?”

 

Draco eyed her from under his eyelashes, surprised by her short tone, “What did I do wrong, now?”

 

“You fuck me senseless first, but still call me by my last name. It rubs me the wrong way.” She started to cut loose, intended to start dressing up and head back home.

 

His hand pulled her by the neck back to where she lay first, “You’re not going anywhere until I’m done.” Draco tucked her back between the arm and chest, huffing, “I mean no harm when I call you Granger. It’s a cuddly name nowadays, Hermione.” He took every escape possibility away, by snaking the other arm around her.

 

“Very romantic.”

 

He murmured against her mouth, “Stay for the night, love. Don’t go…”

 

She sought the best place on his chest that could serve as a pillow, “Unless you snore.” His rumbling laughter lulled her into sleep.

 

-oOo-

 

The rays of sunlight woke her in the morning to an empty bed. Fishing his discarded Oxford off the ground, she walked barefoot until she found him drinking a cup of coffee by the window, bare chested and his pyjama pants hanging low on the hips. The breakfast table was already covered for her as well, the plate hiding underneath a few tulips neatly stacked.

 

Hermione smiled, pacing all the way through until she wrapped her arms around his chest. She pecked a kiss between his shoulder blades, just in time before he started to turn around and envelope her frame inside his own embrace, after ditching his mug on a coffee table.

 

“Did you have a good night sleep?” Draco kissed her gently, the taste of a dark blend of coffee on his lips.

 

“There was this git who woke me up halfway through the night to devour me between my legs, but aside from that, I slept well, thank you for asking.” She gaped, still drunk on sleep.

 

“I understand the git, completely. Such a well of sweet nectar at his hands reach...he had to taste the honey. Granger, I want to…”

 

She tickled his side, “Tell me pumpkin, what is it that you have to say, the breakfast is getting cold, now its table is so romantically set.”

 

“This thing between us...I find it worthy enough of further exploration…” He lifted her face by the chin to force her gaze onto his face, “Are you willing to investigate it with me?”

 

“You mean more fucking?” If he was offering a thing with benefits, he was in for a ride.

 

“That too, though I’m more interested to see if our little thing last night could be the start of something more long-term. I could use a witch who kicks my arse back into line, someone who tells me I’m worth it.” He was unable to hide a little twitch around his mouth, a sign that her rejection could hurt more than she might think.

 

“Not only a friendship with benefits, then?” It came out in a whisper.

 

“You deserve better than to be someone’s little dirty secret, Hermione. No vows yet, no love declarations either at the moment, only a promise of trying to be the wizard you think I can be.” Draco kissed her on the hair, inhaling the scent of her flowery shampoo. “To show the world what a lucky bastard I am to have you on my arm.”

 

“I think I can accept your offer.” She smiled softly stretching her neck to meet his lips. “No hiding?”

 

“Rather the opposite, Granger. You make a wizard feel proud, you know?” He palmed her cheeks and brought her lips to his, expressing unspoken promises onto one single kiss. Her trembled sigh warmed his face and his heart. Blowing a warm wind of hope into his soul.

 

-oOo-

 

*Six months later*

 

He waited at their table at the same tea parlour where they met the first time. Her working day was nearly finished, and Draco asked her to meet him there, to create a new habit he said.

 

Luckily, the sun shone high in the sky bathing their table in the light.

 

She kissed him before taking her seat across his, chuckling at the steaming cup of rosebud tea and the slice of marble cake waiting for her, one fork only though. “Where’s your fork?”

 

“What’s yours is mine, remember? You told me that much when you moved in with me four months ago.” He munched on the first bite.

 

“Always the cunning snake, ready with an answer.” She opened her mouth to accept his offer of cake.

 

“How was your day?” He sipped from his Earl Grey, forgoing coffee this time. His nerves were already tight under his skin.

 

"Boring, as usual, I'm really tempted to kiss it all goodbye." Hermione blew out her cheeks, her position inside the Department of Magical Creatures was becoming dull, none of her proposals were even being considered, and she hated to be given the runaround.

 

“Whatever you decide, I’m supporting you.” He laced their fingers, pinching in support.

 

“Now tell me why it was so important to meet you here today?” Hermione sipped her cup of tea, elbows on the table.

 

"Bah, your boyfriend asks you to have a tea, and you're second-guessing his intentions?" He shook his head, "Speaking of trust."

 

Hermione flushed embarrassed, tucking a curl back behind her ear, “That’s not...oh gawd, sorry....oh well, whatever.”

 

Draco reached inside his pocket and shoved a box towards her.

 

The cup was set with a loud bonk, warm tea spilling over the edge, “Draco?” The box looked familiar, the golden letters on the top the giveaway from its origin.

 

“Just open it.” His insides were twisting viciously, insecure about her answer.

 

This past half-year had flown by.

 

Draco had courted her like a queen from that first day on. In the beginning, it was a night spent together and then a few after alone. But her presence in his life became quickly very addictive, and it didn't take long before he started to convince her to stay for more than one night...than a week, until he finally helped her move her stuff in.

  


Man, did he worshipped her that very first night.

 

His mother didn't need convincing about their relationship, his father was another beast, but even the older Malfoy wasn't immune to the natural charm of this curly-haired Muggleborn.

 

From her side, Hermione stood her ground, demanding especially from the ginger-head the benefit of the doubt. Between the Weasel and him no love was wasted, but it did lose some of its animosity. It was easier to deal with Potter, the man could be funny, in the end. Their get-togethers every other week got more relaxed with time anyway.

 

But he wanted to see that devotion in her eyes towards his ring, like that on that rainy day. She complimented him in ways no other witch ever had, Astoria the least of them all.

 

The idea to propose to her grew in his head pretty quick after she moved in, the word girlfriend evoked a teenage-taste in his mind, and it didn't fit the way he wanted to describe her in public.

 

She wasn't just a girl he flung his arm around and bragged to his friends about as he did in Pansy-times. She was his other half and calling her his girlfriend didn't cover the whole content. The Wife-description fit so much better.

 

The woman who forced him to negotiate a public contract with St. Mungo’s, letting the community know that many a wizard was cured thanks to his healing potions. The woman who silently but determinedly changed the perception people held towards him specifically, forcing some to sum up the errors he had committed himself, which turned out not to be that many, aside from the vanishing cabinet and its part during the war.

 

Even that last had been put in the right light when she forced people to comprehend why he did it in the first place. Why saving his mother was more important than his own life.

 

Lately, people would greet him with a nod instead of a sneer, thanks to her.

 

Calling her girlfriend felt wrong in so many perspectives, that even though they only dated for six months, he was ready for the next step. And for the other one too, the chapter with children.

 

The ring she uncovered wasn't a copy of the previous, aside from the stone. It was a double ring, both circles conveying around a smaller emerald that was surrounded by little red emeralds.

 

“It’s not the same one.”

 

“You’re not the same witch either. You’re so much better.” He spoke determined, “Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

 

As with Astoria’s ring, she thumbed the stone, caressing with the tip of the finger the little gems surrounding the bigger green one. She bit her lip, closing her eyes to gather her wits before she changed into a puddle of tears.

 

“Hermione, will you be my wife?” He hoped he wasn’t misreading the trembling of her bottom lip.

 

The smile she gave him was watery at best; despite her will, a few tears did escape the corner of her eyes while she nodded. Draco rose from his chair and kissed her over the table, while tremendous applause erupted through the tea parlour. They never noticed how quiet it had become.

 

He puffed up like a peacock, shoving the ring down her finger.

 

A weight melted from his shoulders and was replaced by a scorching hot feeling in his heart.

 

In the end, she was worth it.

 

-the end-


End file.
